


Stratum

by mahwaha



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Animal Death, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-13
Updated: 2015-01-13
Packaged: 2018-03-07 09:27:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,421
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3169808
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mahwaha/pseuds/mahwaha
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She dreamt of an adult who looked like she belonged to myths. Nepeta expected her to speak in stories, or poetry, or broad sweeps of blood. Instead, she shared tea with Nepeta among sprawling sugar dunes and asked how her quadrants were doing. It was...oddly anticlimactic.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stratum

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Laylah](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Laylah/gifts).



Her cave system stretched like varicose veins beneath the soil's cracked skin. When Equius went idle and Terezi got caught up in calibrating the Scalemate gallows, Nepeta liked to pick her way through the dank, clammy passages. Sometimes, Pounce would join her, floating on like a phantom as the darkness swallowed the bright swathe of her fur. Those nights, Nepeta would don one persona after the next: rogue, huntress, warrior princess. When Pounce tuckered out and wanted to stop, Nepeta shouldered her fallen comrade and hiked back to base camp, seeking bandages and safety. Her ally faded so fast.

(Pounce always made it, in the end. Justice always prevailed for Terezi, and goodness always survived, for Nepeta.)

Tonight, Nepeta braved the danger alone. She was a free-agent spy seeking the Imperial camps that had kidnapped her kismesis—after she'd sold them the tip to her whereabouts, of course. Tonight, she was the wild romantic, Valeri Analis, who would lay out plans to complete the most dangerous, death-defying black overture in all of paradox space. That is, assuming that the quick-witted Mosele Brasby didn’t escape before Valeri could make it.

Terezi was going to lose it when she read Nepeta’s fic-in-progress about their OCs, lovingly explored during Nepeta’s spelunking. It sucked that Terezi could make it over for some real roleplaying, though; she would have loved acting it out in the caves. Of course, that just meant that she’d have to document the adventure extra-closely. Terezi would feel like she was there for the whole thing, or Nepeta’s storytelling skills needed some polish.

Crouched behind a column, Nepeta ignored the slow seep of water through the knee of her pants as she waited. One beat. Two. Three. The cave yawned silence, and she wore a grin when she reached for her lantern. Its dim light sent shivering fingers up the walls, hardly tall enough to fathom touching the ceiling. 

“Valeri crept downwind of her prey,” she whispered, feet whispering across the cave floor. A squat stalagmite sat in her crosshairs, its side lumpy with popcorn. “She knew she didn’t have much time, but if she could catch this fledgling tailorectomist’s meowrail then she’d undoubtedly dig up the secret location of the base.”

Inching closer, Nepeta licked her lips. A little more. A teeny, tiny bit more. Her chest thrummed with the force of her buzzing when she finally leapt, mouth opening wide to unleash a rattling hiss that would scare the marrow out of any prey’s bones. In a perfect world, that marrow would have been scared straight into her belly! But that wasn’t a thing that happened in her world building, so she settled for landing at the stalagmite’s side and pawing at the pale plane of stone marbling its middle.

“Give up! I have you now, and I won’t let you go until you fess up. Where’s the Imperial camp?” Nepeta snarled, then gave a start as her lantern slapped against her hostage’s side. The light spat and flickered as the stench of rendered fat smoked out, and Nepeta grumbled a, “shit,” as she stopped to steady it. It got to sit aside as she latched back on to the stalagmite, propped near the wall (where she wouldn’t accidentally kick it over). Her hissing took a few tries to recreate, but Nepeta grinned as she found it. 

“Valeri caught the unsuspecting and very beautiful rustblood in a headlock. She struggled, but couldn’t escape Valeri’s arms, which were basically cholerbear traps. If the rustblood could see Valeri’s arms, she’d probably agree that they were just like guns...if she wasn’t in the middle of being panicked. She pleaded with Valeri to let her go, swearing that she wouldn’t run. And Valeri agreed. She was a true huntress, and no prey could escape her for long.”

Nepeta paused, then frowned. Her slackening grip tightened back up, and she tried on her sternest expression.

“She was a true huntress, but...hm.” Frowning, Nepeta slid from the stalactite. Her front was damp from her rumblespheres down to the legs of her pants, but there were bigger problems at hand. She wiped her hands on her pants before tapping her chin, staring forward. “I don’t know,” she sighed. “I wanted to do a side plot with a budding matespritship, but this is way too aggressive. Or one sided? Maybe they should fight. But it’d be nice if the rustblood could come to Valeri about her old heart interests.”

Clearly, this part of the story needed more fleshing out. Nepeta approached her lantern and sat, fetching her drawing tablet from her sylladex. Of course, that was a trial within itself; a Flappy Wingbeast fetch modus was the most bullshit thing that she’d ever seen. What she wouldn’t give for the Pictionary modus. Nepeta huffed as she pulled up a blank canvas, wincing at the added light; she averted her eyes to the cave wall and waited one beat. Two. The glow from her lantern clashed with her tablet light, warm yellow on cold white on...

A figure, scarred into the rock.

Tilting her tablet toward the wall, Nepeta pushed herself up to investigate. Smears of color dripped from the gouged lines: dull greens, muddy grays, and old, crackling browns where the edges had worn. At first, Nepeta thought she’d found a picture of Pounce; the lusus had her same twin smile, but its mane had grown longer and thicker. A troll straddled the ferocious kitty’s back, bent forward like a rider the size of not-Pounce’s great paw. They had Nepeta’s horns and gnarled, black curls. More than that, they had Nepeta’s drawing strokes. She couldn’t help but trace each line beneath her fingers, following them down to the accompanying message:

“MIGHTY MEU AND HER TRUSTY LUSUS S33K GROWTH SPURT VALLEY!! WILL MEU MAKE IT?? OR WILL SHE NEFUR, EFUR EXC33D HER ADOLESCENT SIZE??! THE SW33PS-LONG SAGA BEGINS...”

Nepeta wiped her fingers on her pants before turning her tablet back around. Making a rough sketch of a rough sketch felt silly, but the feeling dissipated beneath her stoked curiosity. Sure, she’d traveled the cave system before, but she’d never noticed drawings outside of the ones just past the mouth—the ones she’d put there. Mighty Meu sounded like a character that had been based on her, in a weird way. Growth Spurt Valley wasn’t the Fountain of Cute, but...

“I wonder,” she mumbled, and tucked her tablet pen behind her ear. Valeri’s adventures would have to wait, because Nepeta had found one of her own.

  


When Nepeta trudged back into her own territory, cave grit covered her pants and gloves. More pictures than she could fathom had littered the walls, all depicting Mighty Meu—Meulin, she’d found out. Everyday occurrences turned into epic plotlines, and Nepeta had recreated all that she had found in her tablet. There were too many to tackle in one night, especially with her tablet needing a good charge, and Nepeta already had plans to render more fat for her lantern. Finding those pictures felt like digging up those rare fic gems that layers and layers of crap had buried in the archives. It was like finding that perfect matesprit manifesto for a favorite rare pair, or watching a series that actually came through on the moirallegiance OTP.

In short, Nepeta couldn’t let this discovery waste away in the caves. The paintings that hadn’t been carved into the rock had already bled so much, so it was practically her duty to recreate them! Mighty Meu’s three-sweep-long pawdessy to Growth Spurt Valley? That hardly scratched the surface of her adventures. The sharp shafts of light that warned for the upcoming morning went unnoticed as Nepeta hooked her tablet up to charge. Pounce chirped as her clothes, soaked with cave-damp, hit the floor one article after another.

“I swear I’ll pick them up,” Nepeta said, hands up. “Just not now.” Pounce’s tail thumped against the pelt she’d sprawled over, and Nepeta sighed as she dropped down to sit against her custodian’s fuzzy tummy. She peeled her hat off seconds before Pounce yanked her over with a paw. But that was okay. Concessions could be made in the name of being able to kind of write while Pounce threatened to peel her hair from her scalp. (Not really, but it felt like it sometimes. Equius told her that meant she needed to brush her hair more.)

So, with only a minor amount of complaining, Nepeta strained for her tablet and swallowed her yawn.

 

_Mighty Meu and the Warrior’s Paint!_

“Meoward Catter, to me!” Mighty Meu yowls. Her trusty lusus stops rolling around in the wild grasses to bound to her side with two cute smiles! The warm, dark night would be their first to hunt and gather purrovisions for their journey to Growth Spurt Valley. A herd of antlerbeast had come into her territory to graze, so Mighty Meu hops onto Meoward Catter’s back to stalk after them. Excitement and anticipation flows through her while Meoward lopes through the tr33s.

But what is ahead?! The fl33t-hooved stag that leads the herd! His rack displays his age and power as he tosses his head at a younger male to assert dominance! Mighty Meu leaps off of Meoward Catter’s back to cr33p closer and closer still. She stays downwind and hides behind brush while Meoward Catter circles around for a pincer furmation. If they succeed, the stag’s meat will be tough and gamey. But it would be a hunt that would go down in history.

The stag’s graying muzzle tempts Mighty Meu as she k33ps her eyes trained on her prey. She’s almost on top of the stag when his ears swivel and strain for the sound of her soft, sneaky paws! Mighty Meu’s hips wiggle as she tenses to spring and then leaps furward with a mean right hook! POW! She punches the stag right in the snout to show that she is the true alpha! 

Meoward Catter dashes into the herd of antlerbeast as Mighty Meu strikes! Antlerbeast scatter efurrywhere, bleating in panic! Meoward Catter pounces on a delectable doe when she stumbles with fright and sinks his claws into her flank, knocking her off balance with the fell swoop of his paw. Mighty Meu dodges back from the stag’s infuriated charge as the scent of blood fills the air. She f33ls herself consumed by the lust for the hunt without a meowrail to r33l her back in, and lets the stag charge her! Recklessly! His crown catches and tears her shirt and the trey tine below it slashes her layer of purrotective fat. With furst blood drawn, Mighty Meu loses control.

Manic and adorabloodthirsty, she strikes! Mighty Meu slashes at the stag’s throat with her bare paws, lacking a clawkind strife specibus due to **lack of technological advancement or something! ((*ac makes a note to come back to this part after sl33p and furious research have strengthened her case!* >:33)) Olive bl33ds down her side as she slashes his scraggly throat, barely catching him with her claws befur he comes at her with his hooves! Smack! Mighty Meu flies back when he strikes her right in the rumblespheres, but a fluffy bush cushions her fall. Meoward Catter purrks up at Mighty Meu’s hiss of distress and licks his jowls.

The stag rears up! Is this the end of Mighty Meu? No! Just as he stamps down to try and crack her skull open, Meoward Catter leaps into the furay! He slams into the stag from the side and knocks him off balance, giving Mighty Meu time to recover and roll back onto her f33t! She powers through the sharp pain that fills the fatty tissue of her rumblespheres to throw herself at the fallen stag, who is pinned beneath Meoward’s capable paws. Yowl! Hissss! He bellows when she tastes his blood with her jaws clamped down on his thick neck. The tossing of his big head can’t dislodge her! Just like a deathbadger, fiercest of the mewstelids, she clings tight until the mighty beast suffocates.

Her prize is won! Mighty Meu tears his neck flesh open to lap ravenously at the juicy fountain beneath. She drowns her face in his steaming blood and buzzes with triumph at her success. Meoward Catter flops over next to the twitching corpse, because he is quite sl33py after the thrill of the hunt. He looks at Mighty Meu with twin smiles drenched in blood, and she grins back at him when she rises. The stag and doe will f33d them well after Mighty Meu cures the meat, and she will bl33d the doe for her collection of paints. There is no better omen for the beginning of her travels than a hunt like this, because the stag’s wisdom will linger far longer than his meat! 

((weak ending? ://))

  


Nepeta squinted at her tablet screen with watering eyes. The wet crests of her curls formed drying cowlicks where she nuzzled into Pounce’s side. Her cat mom had turned her back to the cave mouth to sleep somewhere around the action scene, which Nepeta might have felt a little offended by if it weren’t past dawn. There had to be a better way to do this. She’d figure it out after slinking back into the cave systems to piss, maybe grabbing a flying squeakbeast to tide over her rumbling tummy, and taking her full day of sleep. Her recuperacoon felt like bliss, when she finally slapped back into the slime.

She dreamt of an adult who looked like she belonged to myths. Nepeta expected her to speak in stories, or poetry, or broad sweeps of blood. Instead, she shared tea with Nepeta among sprawling sugar dunes and asked how her quadrants were doing. It was...oddly anticlimactic.

Instead of lingering on it when she climbed from her coon, Nepeta prepared for another long night of archiving. Slogging fat from her stores to render wasn’t the most fun she could be having (or the best smelling), but it gives her motions to go through in between pecking at her tablet.

arsenicCatnip [AC] began trolling apocalypseArisen [AA]

AC: :33 < aradia i can s33 youre online!  
AC: :33 < youre online right  
AA: yes  
AA: i was just ab0ut t0 start dating this tr0ll skull  
AA: but it can wait  
AC: :33 < *ac uses her tail to dust some of the dirt from this dapper troll skull so aa can have a sharp looking date later!*  
AC: :33 < h33h33  
AC: :33 < just kidding  
AC: :33 < i know you arent actually s33ing a troll skull romeowntically  
AA: are y0u sure  
AA: i might be putting 0n my spade st0mping b00ts t0 take this gentleman 0n the hate date 0f his afterlife  
AC: :33 < hmm! ill have to make aradia<3<dead old skull wall official :oo  
AA: 0u~  
AA: that l00ks pretty stupid actually  
AA: f0rget i did that  
AC: :33 < furget what? x33  
AA: yes exactly  
AA: anyway what did y0u need nepeta  
AC: :33 < well i was exploring the cave systems the other night  
AC: :33 < i found some old paintings and carvings that are really cool! and ive b33n wanting to document them  
AC: :33 < but there are too many to find on my own!  
AC: :33 < i wanted to ask if youd go adventuring with me to sleuth out the rest  
AA: that s0unds really exciting!  
AA: id l0ve t0 c0me 0ver  
AA: ill bring supplies f0r map making and carving inspecti0ns  
AC: :33 < yesssssssss!  
AC: :33 < you can bring a day bag too!  
AC: :33 < if you want to have a respite party  
AA: a respite party s0unds perfect  
AA: after all well b0th need time t0 p0re 0ver 0ur findings and rest  
AC: :33 < and to dress up for adventure selfies?  
AA: abs0lutely  
AA: adventure selfies are alm0st as imp0rtant as hide0us face selfies with the images themselves  
AA: i will bring a camera  
AA: and my slitherskin b00ts  
AC: :33 < then its a date!  
AC: :33 < an adventure date, i mean  
AA: what d0esnt share a quadrant with 0ld dead skull isnt his c0ncern  
AA: n0w use a little winking cat face  
AC: :33 < ;33  
AA: purrfect  
AA: i will see y0u s00n nepeta!  
AC: :33 < h33 h33 h33!!!  
AC: :33 < s33 you soon aradia!

arsenicCatnip [AC] ceased trolling apocalypseArisen [AA]

  


Aradia arrived to the stench of boiling fat and Nepeta’s signature grin. It preceded her even more signature pouncegr33t, which Aradia took with a grain of psionic stabilization. It wouldn’t do to dirty her hat before the adventure had even started! 

“Cheater,” Nepeta said, dangling from Aradia’s perfectly upright shoulders. Aradia shrugged as her hat floated off of her head, then pulled a face of mock shock. 

“Oh no. It looks like I’m haunted by old dead skull!” 

“You’re not!” 

“He kept me from falling over and is stealing my hat!” 

“Aradia!” 

“That fiend is taking off with it! We have to give chase!” 

“I can literally see your psionics!” Nepeta laughed and cinched her legs around Aradia’s waist as Aradia went airborn, clinging to Nepeta’s back with one arm and reaching for her hat with the other. The white glow radiating from Aradia’s body spread to Nepeta’s, tugging at her tail belt and uncovered hair. 

“We’ve been hijacked!” Aradia cried, and began to giggle. “The ghosts say they’ll only let us go if we prove we believe. But mostly you. Hurry, Nepeta!” The pack on Aradia’s back slid off with minimal snagging, once Aradia moved her hands from Nepeta. 

“I believe!” 

“That doesn’t sound believe-y enough. Do you believe in life after death?” 

Nepeta hesitated, watching Aradia’s pack disassemble itself. A psionic poke to her stomach set her straight. 

“I can feel something inside me say—” A chirp cut her off as she dropped into the pelt pile, sinking deeper into the furs beneath Aradia’s weight. If there weren’t a cholerbear’s paw draped over her eyes, Nepeta just might have pressed pause on their silly back and forth to wakedream about going in for the kill. Er, the kiss. Aradia was, after all, sprawled out on top of her. 

“It’s lucky that ghosts love troll Cher,” Aradia said, crawling backwards over Nepeta’s legs. As she stood, Nepeta shook the pelt from her face and sat upright. Aradia’s hat dropped primly between her horns, leaving her voluminous cloud of hair to erupt from beneath it. “That means we can finally get started.” 

Grinning, Nepeta giggled and clapped her hand into the one Aradia had proffered. 

“Sure,” she said, and held Aradia’s hand for a wavering second before gesturing toward the deeper caverns of her hive.Two lanterns drifted through the air between them, oil-burning and glass cased. When Nepeta reached for her fetch modus, cringing, Aradia uncaptchalogued a book of matches and lit them herself. 

“Lead the way.” Aradia gestured back, so Nepeta did.

  


Oil burning lamps were the threshicutioner to the legislacerator, or the legislacerator to the laughsassin. Nepeta preferred rock-paper-clawkind, herself, but the dynamics were the same. Light blanketed the walls that they pored over and threw eerie shadows up Aradia’s face—she’d insisted on keeping both lanterns below their faces for candid creepy shots, between documenting wall art. They had a good system, so far: Aradia manned the camera and the map-making while Nepeta debriefed her on what she’d already found with her tablet, between taking notes. They were hitting the areas that Nepeta already knew in a grid pattern, which made the fact that they were taking forever sound a lot more exciting.

Still, Nepeta couldn’t complain. There were much worse things than watching Aradia measure another painting. Meoward Catter curled up in what looked like a grave; Meulin stood on the burial mound with his pelt draped over her head and shoulders. The text beneath it had shrank from the sloppy scrawl that Nepeta had first found. 

“thank you for 8 sw33ps of cuddles and ferocity”

Aradia let her psionics wind her measuring strip into a coil before pausing to read it. Really, as with the planchette in her Ouija fetch modus, it felt as if she were being guided by spirits. As if she were meant to be here. The image of the troll clad in her white lusus furs spoke of fate, just like the spirit who had visited her in her last spelunking adventure. Guiding the lantern beneath her chin after marking an ‘X’ on the map, Aradia twisted to shoot Nepeta a smile.

“I think I’ve heard of this troll,” she said, and Nepeta glanced up from the face of her tablet.

“Mighty Meu? When?” 

“Spelunking in the cave systems south of Vriska’s hive,” Aradia said, pushing the lanterns aside to approach. She caught Nepeta scrolling up the canvas of her drawing program as she peeked over the shoulder of her jacket. “There weren't many pictures, but I found stories. Sermons, actually.” Though she couldn't recall the words, the image had stuck with her: words stacking from the floor to the ceiling of the shallower passages, only to strain as high as they could when the caves opened wider. The walls had been clothed like a conservative highblood in the dead of winter. It had taken Aradia ages to transcribe what she could, not to mention documenting it with her camera.

A chitter tickled the shell of her ear. It wasn't Nepeta; no corporeal creature could chill her through the thick wool of her hair.

“We should have a seance,” it said.

“We should have a seance,” Aradia agreed, hooking her arm around Nepeta’s back. “I think she’s here. We could use your tablet as the medium of communication, if your batteries haven’t worn out.” She watched Nepeta’s nostrils flare open on her inhale, mimicking the widening pits of her pupils as she glanced over Aradia’s fedora. When her attention drifted back to Aradia’s face, she put on a small smile.

“Hmm,” she hummed, trying to school her expression into a blank slate. Her lips twisted and pursed, instead. Aradia watched her nose scrunch with a widening grin. “Depends. What do we have to do?”

“Hold hands,” Aradia said. “Chant backwards phrases with no meaning. Slash our palms to offer blood to the ritual. Maybe kiss.”

As intended, Nepeta’s eyebrows threatened to rocket off of her forehead.

“Really?”

“Mostly. The blood is important for atmosphere, but won’t change the outcome of the seance.”

“Ohmygosh,” the voice buzzed, so thrummy it came through garbled. Nepeta’s chest rumbled with a similar zip of sound, which came and went as quick as a snap. Aradia had a hard time telling, but one of Nepeta’s vestigial arms may have wriggled beneath her jacket. Her own flexed in response, the carapace of the tips prodding along the slats of her ribs.

“Uh, yeah. Yes.” Nepeta nodded, face hot. “A seasoned huntress won’t balk at some blood.” Or maybe-kisses. That didn’t mean that she couldn’t forgive herself for going all molten and gooey on the inside, when Aradia took her hand.

“And a seasoned adventurer eagerly leaps into kissing! Let’s go back to scrounge up some candles, then. We’ll need those for atmosphere.” The voice at her ear insisted, so who was Aradia to fight it?

  


Nested amongst furs and flickering wicks, Nepeta felt her heart racing. A wild froth had taken nest in the sphere between her belly and her ribs. Her head sank and swam before zooming up through the top of the cave to soar and tear into the nearest wingbeast. Blood seeped from her fingertips, but this wasn’t even anemia. (She ate way too much iron for that to even be a possibility, anyway.) 

“The spirit requires three kisses with the blood sacrifice,” Aradia said, tipping her full-lipped smile in Nepeta’s direction. Nepeta squeezed her hands where they locked together, tablet blinking on a blank document below the circle of their arms. When it looked like the screensaver was about to pop up, she nudged the screen with her toe. Aradia thought it was cute, like the ridiculous grin that was trying not to exist on her face. “Is that okay?”

“Yes,” Nepeta stated, firm. “Absolutely. It’s our duty as adventurers.”

“It is,” Aradia said, nodding. She scooted closer, bracketing Nepeta’s hips with her heels. “So I’ll start.”

“I’m DYING,” the voice wailed, giddy, as Aradia proceeded to lose her shit mid-kiss-transit. Nepeta pecked her teeth as Aradia snorted with laughter. Spit flew onto Nepeta’s face. The voice shrieked in the background as Nepeta panicked, reaching up with her bleeding fingers to cup Aradia’s cheeks and barrage her with the final two in a manner not unlike ripping a gluey bandage from a hairy leg. The first caught gums, she was pretty sure; the second hit lip before skidding down to chin, and Aradia’s laughter went breathless and silent when she smacked her nose on Nepeta’s forehead.

“Oh my god,” Nepeta groaned, folding forward. She buried her face against Aradia’s shaking shoulder and exploded into giggles that shifted into quaking barks of laughter. Aradia clutched at the back of her jacket, breath hopping in choppy spurts that stimulated her hissbladder. She sounded like she was sizing Nepeta up for a territory battle, not suffering her post-kiss delirium.

“Oh my god,” Aradia echoed.

“This is not how I pictured this going.” Nepeta shook her head and wiped her eyes on Aradia’s safari-style shirt. “M’so sorry, oh my god. I’m sorry.”

“I spat right in your face!” Aradia said, gasping for breath. It sounded like a triumph, rather than a regret. “Right in your face!” The lines of Nepeta’s blood emphasized the creases of her grin as she leaned back, gripping Nepeta’s arms with a maniacal grin. Staring back, Nepeta’s open mouth twisted into the expression to match.

“I kissed your gums,” she fired back. “And your nose is bleeding?”

Aradia just laughed and laughed.

Beneath them, text fired across the document on Nepeta’s tablet.

YOU TWO ARE SO FURICKING CUTE!!!  
UGH I CANT BELIEVE IM GOING TO SAY THIS...  
I F33L SEVEN ALL OFUR AGAIN...  
BUT YOU TWO ARE SUCH GAY BABIES! ~(=^┬ ┬^)  
YOU HAVE TO TELL ME EFURRYTHING! IVE B33N HANGING OUT WITH DEAR, SW33T NEPETA FUR SO LONG BUT THATS ONLY HALF OF THE STORY  
HER PAINTINGS JUST ARENT ENOUGH!!

  


  


  


0kay  
let me see  
:33 < why are we typing :??  
TO DOCUMENT SILLY  
hush y0ur fingers  
were pretending that there isnt a tablet passing between us  
now then  
i think it all started when nepeta helped me thr0ugh that bad st0rm last sweep

**Author's Note:**

> After brainstorming through two ridiculously thought-out plotlines and veering off of the road I'd paved for myself, here we are. Here's hoping you like it, Laylah!


End file.
